Hobbits Abroad
by Marigold Cotton
Summary: A summons from the King takes a group of hobbits to visit Minas Tirith where they learn some interesting things about their forebears. CHAPTER 4 - THE GAMES HOBBITS PLAY! WE MEET THE WHOLE FELLOWSHIP!
1. Default Chapter

Hobbits Abroad

Authors: Marigold & Llinos

PROLOGUE

All years given are according to the Shire Reckoning.

On March 1st, S.R. 1541, High King Elessar of the line of Isildur finally gave up his mortal life in Minas Tirith, capital city of his vast realm. His son Eldarion was a man full grown and ready to assume the duties of his renowned father. Although he ruled from the date his father had died, he delayed his crowning until representatives of all the Free Peoples of Middle Earth that acknowledged his rule could assemble in the White City to witness the event.

Messengers were sent forth near and far with the sad news of King Elessar's passing, and to summon the leaders of his subject lands to the crowning of his heir. This was to be held with due ceremony on September the 22nd, a holiday throughout much of the realm being the birthday of Frodo the Nine-Fingered, Ringbearer, and his elder cousin Bilbo who had for a time also borne the One Ring.   

By the middle of July only those leaders from the farthest lands had not yet arrived. As each contingent came to the City they were taken to fair housing as befitted their station and allowed to rest from their travels before being greeted by Queen Arwen, wife to the late King, her son Eldarion, the new Monarch, and the other nobles now filling the City.

One such contingent arrived in Minas Tirith on July the 19th, to find their housing not only fair, but also exactly fitting their small stature. Though hobbits had not remained as isolated in the land of the Shire after the four Travellers had undertaken the great Quest so long ago, still it was rare that one of this race journeyed so far as Gondor. To find this lovely homelike abode set in a well-tended garden at the end of their long toil was quite a surprise.

They had already been overawed at the honours paid to their group. Queen Arwen had personally ordered an escort for the Counsellors of the North-kingdom, as the King's representatives from the Shire were titled. They had journeyed the vast distance comfortably under the protection of the King's men, travelling to the crowning from Fornost Erain, the High King's seat in the north of his realm.

The three King's Counsellors, the Thain, also known in his own land as The Took, the Master of Buckland, and the Mayor of the Shire, were accompanied by only a few members of their immediate families. The full number of their entourage was but eleven, small compared to most other contingents but a good-sized group to those who knew hobbits and their reluctance to travel. In fact, of the eleven, only two were not of direct lineage to one of the famed hobbit members of the Fellowship, and one of those two was a distant cousin removed in who knew how many different ways to the Took, Brandybuck, and Baggins lines.

*************************************************************************

TBC

APPENDIX A

The Family Trees of the Hobbits attending the Coronation of King Eldarion I 

(There are omissions from these tables as many siblings are not included and some dates are unrecorded. The hobbits' names who were in attendance at the Coronation are underlined.)

**Took**  
Paladin II 1333-1434 – married 1374 – Eglantine Banks 1340  
begat  
Peregrin I 1390 – married 1427 – Diamond of Long Cleeve 1395  
begat  
Faramir I 1430 – married 1463 – Goldilocks Gamgee 1431  
begat  
Boromir I 1465 – married 1505 – Bluebell Bolger 1469-1532  
begat  
Faramir II 1510 and Poppy 1515

**Brandybuck**  
Saradoc Scattergold 1340-1432 – married – Esmeralda Took 1336  
begat  
Meriadoc the Magnificent – 1382 – married 1427 – Estella Bolger 1385  
begat  
Periadoc the Peerless 1430 – married 1463 – Linnet Baggins 1433  
begat  
Théodoc 1468 – married 1507 – Pansy Gardner 1468  
begat  
Éowyn 1509 and Meridydd 1514  
  
_NB: although inadvertently omitted from later copies of the Red Book of Westmarch, Meriadoc The Magnificent did in fact have a son, Periadoc, to whom he handed over his title, Master of Buckland._

**Gamgee/Gardner**  
Hamfast Gamgee 1326-1428 – married – Bell Goodchild  
begat  
Samwise Gamgee 1380 – married 1420 – Rose Cotton 1384-1482  
begat  
Frodo Gardner 1423 – married – Violet Bolger 1430  
begat  
Holfast 1462 – married – Amethyst of Far Downs 1462 _and_ Pansy – _married **Théodoc**_  
begat  
Harding of the Hill 1501 – married 1540 – Columbine Bracegirdle 1507  
  



	2. Sightseeing

CHAPTER 1 – Sightseeing  
  
"Oh! But he looks just like me!" Faramir II, gasped. Both he and his sister Poppy were opened mouthed as they stood before the great mural in the City of Minas Tirith. 

Their parents and aunts and uncles exchanged knowing smiles. "Well, he is your great grandfather." Boromir I, Thain elect of The Shire placed a hand on each of his children's shoulders, "and about your age too when this picture was made."

"So which is my great grandfather?" Éowyn Brandybuck asked with a puzzled look. "Oh no I see, of course, he's got Meridydd's silly turned up nose."

"Now then Éowyn," her mother Pansy scolded. "I love that snub nose, it's just like Théodoc's," She squeezed her husband's hand lovingly, "and yours too I might add, milady."

"Don't forget we have two great grandfather's in the group." Her brother pointed out. "Mother's grandfather is there too."

"Yes the one on the end, he must be our great grandfather. Éowyn's and Meri's on their mother's side and mine on my father's side." Harding pointed out to his new wife Columbine the figure standing shyly on the edge of the mural, his hands clasped demurely before him and his eyes set firmly on the hobbit in the centre of the scene.

"Then who is the hobbit in the middle?" Columbine asked innocently. Looks were exchanged amongst the elders but no one admonished the lass, she was new to the family, and history was not taught as it should be these days.

"That," said Holfast Gardner in a solemn voice that made the girl realise she had made a social blunder, "is Frodo Baggins. Or, as you should know, Nine Fingered Frodo the Ringbearer."

"Let me see then." Poppy wanted to show off her knowledge of the heroes on the wall. "There was Gimli the Dwarf."

"That's easy, the short man with the big beard and the axe." Faramir pointed.

"And Aragorn Strider." Poppy continued.

"Who became King Elessar." Meridydd pointed to the tall man with the large shield.

"Oh no, Meridydd," Théodoc corrected. "That is Boromir who your cousin is named for. He was the son of the Steward of Gondor and, he well…"

"I remember," Meridydd knew the sad story by heart. "He died defending Meriadoc the Magnificent and Thain Peregrin from the orcs at Parth Galen."

"And my great grandfather, Thain Peregrin," Faramir added, "swore his service to the Steward of Gondor in recompense. It was a noble deed. That was what Gandalf the Wizard said, wasn't it." He added proudly to his father.

"Yes it was indeed Faramir my son," Boromir looked up at the mural with a sad but poignant smile. "That is why I was proud to bear his benefactor's name and you are named for his brother, whose life your great grandfather also saved."

"But which one is Aragorn Strider then?" Éowyn asked. "It must be him." She pointed to the other tall man in the group with dark hair and a beard.

"Yes that is King Elessar," Holfast agreed. "Although the company called him Aragorn. He was only known to them as Strider until they reached Rivendell."

"Grandfather still called him Strider even in Gondor." Boromir put in. "He told me the story of how the Prince of Dol Amroth was shocked to hear him address a King so, but King Elessar didn't mind, because it was Grandad, and he told the Prince his house would be called Strider."

"Yes, but only in the high tongue." Théodoc added. "My grandad told me that tale too. It became Telcontar, which means Strider. But it's funny, grandad used to say, because it was only really a silly nickname that he got in Bree."

"So the other two in the picture are Gandalf the Wizard and the elf-Prince of Greenwood." Amethyst, Holfast's wife had been silently studying the mural and, being from the Far Downs with that rogue Tookish blood, always had a fancy for the mystical and mysterious. "I used to love stories of Gandalf when I was little."

"I used to think they were made up." Columbine said, holding tightly onto her new husband's hand. "Were they all real?"

"Well it depends which stories you heard." Holfast said, "But Gandalf was a genuine wizard, not just a conjuror of cheap tricks, you know. And his fireworks were legendary. But the most amazing thing I knew about Gandalf, or as folk around here would call him, Mithrandir, was that he died and came back to life, so my gaffer's gaffer told the story."

"But he never was dead and buried himself," his sister Pansy said. "leastwise not in the Shire he wasn't."

"No more was Frodo the Ringbearer." Holfast pointed out. "But he left no descendants to think on such things. "Well no immediate family, but he made Samwise Gamgee, our grandfather, his heir, that's why father was called Frodo after him."

"So what happened to them?" Columbine asked in awe.

"They went to the Grey Havens of course." Faramir piped in. "Like the elves do."

"Yes, Frodo went first, a few years after the Quest was done," Pansy told her new niece-in-law, "But grandad stayed until just after grandmamma died. He was quite old when he went there."

"Our great grandads are laid to rest here, aren't they." Poppy knew the stories well and was hoping to see her sleeping ancestors. "I wonder what they were really like?"

"I could tell you that."

The sudden strange voice made them all startle with surprise, even though the tone was gentle and modulated. The eleven hobbits swung around as one to see the exact same elf as was in the picture. Eleven hobbits gasped in unison.

"You… you must be the elf, er Prince Legolas of the Greenwood." Amethyst stuttered.

"Indeed, fair lady," Legolas bowed politely, "and now you have the advantage of me?"

"Amethyst of the Far Downs, wife of Holfast Gardener," she whispered shyly and bobbed a little curtsey the way her mother had taught her and she had practised before the looking glass prior to leaving on this journey.

Legolas smiled serenely. "I am delighted to meet with hobbits again, and hobbits with such distinguished ancestors. Pray do not tell me all your names, allow me to guess those that I may, or at least place you in the correct family."

The hobbits smiled proudly, only too happy to play this game as they delighted in genealogy and considered anything relating to it a fine sport.

****

TBC


	3. Introductions

Hobbit's Abroad 

Chapter 2 - Introductions

Legolas looked carefully at the smiling hobbit faces, taking his time and narrowing his eyes slightly every now and then as though to change the perspective of his view. Eventually he seemed to come to a decision and reached forward to lay his finely sculpted hand upon the shoulder of Meridydd. "Great grandson of Meriadoc the Magnificent or as we called him, Merry."

The hobbits applauded in delight. Not only was he correct but he had managed to ascertain the generation. The young hobbit in question bowed and introduced himself, remembering his manners and that they were in polite company. "Meridydd Brandybuck son of Théodoc at your service, Sir." Then added proudly, "and I'm called Meri too. It would please me if you would do so."

"Legolas Greenleaf of Ithilien at your service, Master Merry, and at your family's." Legolas bowed in return, remembering the correct hobbit civilities with a smile.

Next the elf took the fingers of a flustered Éowyn and stooped graciously as he touched the back of her hand lightly with his lips. "Meridydd's sister, daughter of Théodoc and great granddaughter of Meriadoc, I have no doubt, by that charming retroussé nose."

Éowyn giggled a little until her mother caught her eye and she curtsied and said, "Yes sir, you are most kind, I'm pleased to meet you." Her mother crossed her arms across her ample bosom and smiled with pride that both her children had been half correctly identified and had remembered their manners when responding. She thought with satisfaction that would be the Gardener side of the family. However she was also a little disappointed that the elf had not spotted that Éowyn and Meridydd were also descended from Samwise Gamgee, but then they did take after their father.

"What about me?" A piping voice with a brogue demanded impatiently. "Can you tell who I am?"

The elf laughed out loud, a joyful sound full of mirth. "I must fain recognise the future Thain." Legolas turned to Faramir, "You are as much like your forebear that I might think he stood before me incarnate."

"Um… oh!" Faramir was a little taken aback at the reaction and a little mystified at the meaning.

"That is to say," Legolas smiled broadly, "You are so like your great grandfather, Pippin, or should I say Peregrin I, that I might have mistaken you for him and thought I had merely slept these last 120 years and that Pippin was demanding to know something for the millionth time."

"Why, was he very curious, I mean did he ask a lot of questions?" Poppy wanted to know. "You know, like why is water wet and how long do snails live or what's the time and…"

"…and are we nearly there, what did Gandalf say, what are you going to do now, when can we stop, what's for dinner, will you teach me to shoot your bow and arrow? Yes," Legolas bowed to the young lady hobbit, "Pippin always asked a lot of questions. May I presume, fair maid, that you are his great granddaughter?"

"Oh!" For once Poppy was lost for words, but not for too long. She gathered herself up and bobbed a curtsey as Éowyn had. "Yes sir, Poppy Took, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Oh and that's my brother Faramir." She tossed her head in a disdainful little shake. "He forgot to tell you his name!"

Faramir poked his tongue out at Poppy and then turned to bow to Legolas. "Faramir II, at your service." Then caught his father's eye and added quickly, "Well I will be one day, that's after Grandad Faramir and after my Da, Boromir."

"I am sure you will make an excellent Thain." Legolas bowed in return.  "But come now, who else can I see." He looked for a short while at the other younger hobbits and finally settled on a sturdy looking young man. "Great grandson of Samwise Gamgee I presume?" Legolas proffered his hand, which was accepted.

"Harding Gardener," the hobbit supplied. "This is my new bride, Columbine." 

Columbine curtseyed as she had seen the others do, but wobbled a little on the way, turning a trifle red with embarrassment. 

"We're on our honeymoon." Harding volunteered proudly, causing Columbine's mild blush to develop into a deep crimson.

"Many congratulations to you both." Legolas bowed deeply. "May your hearth be ever warm, your pot be ever filled and your crops never fail." He remembered a hobbit wedding blessing from the Shire.

Legolas realised it was time to move on to the older generation. Slightly more difficult though, as the hobbits he had identified thus far were about the same age as their great grandfathers had been when he first knew them. He studied them again for a moment. No, he changed his mind, not difficult at all.

The elf proffered his hand first to the snub-nosed older hobbit. "Master of Buckland Elect, Théodoc Brandybuck, if I am not mistaken." Théodoc took his hand with a smile. "Is your father Periadoc well?"

"Alas, he is not in the best of health and a little too frail to travel." Théodoc grasped the hand warmly. "I attend to most matters concerning Brandy Hall these days, but he enjoys life sitting by the fire and reading and writing."

"He writes?" Legolas knew that Merry had completed many learned works. "What about?"

"He has made quite a few additions to Meriadoc the Magnificient's _Tale of Years_." Théodoc counted on his fingers. "A work on hobbit customs and traditions and a book that has been copied many times called, _Hops and Brewing – Ales of the Shire_." 

"What is he working on at the moment?" Legolas thought suddenly of another elderly hobbit sitting by the fire in Rivendell still scribing poetry and songs in spite of his great age.

"Currently he is updating Grandfather's _Herblore of the Shire_." Théodoc smiled, "Although I think it was already quite comprehensive."

"I am sure he will do it justice as his father before him." Legolas offered politely but sincerely.

Legolas turned his attention to the remaining and so far unidentified hobbits. "Boromir, I remember you from when you were a small child and even though you are now grown, your bright green eyes betray you yet."

"Indeed, that trait runs strong in the Took clan." Boromir held up both his hands jokingly as if some secret had been discovered. "And I do not doubt that the Tookland accent helps identify my origin. Although it is less strong in the young ones," he indicated Faramir and Poppy, "They wander all over the Shire these days and their speech becomes much diluted."

"Of course, but I would not expect the young ones accents to be as strong as Peregrin's." Legolas explained much to the hobbits' fascination. "Not only was his father Paladin's accent very broad, but also his Aunt Esmie, when he visited his cousin Merry, had the same Tookland accent." Legolas was warming to the subject now, "Merry on the other hand favoured his father more in terms of speech patterns and he visited Hobbiton more than Pippin did and so…" Legolas trailed off as he suddenly realised the audience were hanging on his every word and that he was giving a long discourse on the subject of Hobbit culture to a group of hobbits. He felt sure he would run out of road at any moment.

"…and so?" Boromir prompted.

"er… and so, Merry and Pippin's accents were quite different, which at first I found strange as they seemed such close cousins." Legolas glanced round at the still expectant faces. "It was when I remarked on this that they explained why and that is how I know."

This was followed by much nodding and murmurs of approval from the older hobbits and even a few twitters from the younger ones. While this was happening Legolas took the time to survey the faces to see who he had missed. He had correctly identified the five younger and two of the older hobbits. Amethyst of the Far Downs had introduced herself and he knew she was related only by marriage to this group as was Columbine. That left the husband of Amethyst and the wife of Théodoc.

Obviously Amethyst's husband had to be a descendant of Samwise, although he looked not at all like his illustrious forefather as did his own son Harding. His face was thin and pale and his hands were slender and delicate, almost one might have thought him descended from the Ringbearer himself, although Legolas knew Frodo had left no issue. But then the elf's memory ran back to Rose Gamgee and he realised, this descendant favoured his grandmother more than his grandfather. 

Legolas put his hand on Holfast's shoulder. "Holfast son of Frodo, grandson of Samwise? Am I correct?"

The other hobbits clapped their hands and Holfast laughed aloud, "I thought I might fool you, Mr Legolas, I do not look at all like my grandsire, although my son favours him very much."

"No you are not like Samwise to look at," Legolas agreed. "But your fair grandmother is in you for all to see and I do not doubt all the qualities that endeared Samwise to everyone are carried forward."

"Well I don't know about that," Holfast was flattered. "But we Gardeners try to do right by everyone."

Legolas realised by now all the hobbits were accounted for except the wife of Théodoc. He looked carefully at her full features and decided she too must be related by marriage alone. But then he caught something, a slight glance downwards as she saw him studying her and then a quick and proud lifting of her head that spoke volumes. 

"So are you finished Mr Legolas?" Young Faramir asked impatiently, "Have you got all of our grandparents sorted out now?"

"Well," Legolas began slowly, still fixing his gaze on the wife of Théodoc. "I thought I had, but wait, there is more, is there not?"

The hobbits looked expectantly at one another and then back at Legolas.

"Mrs Brandybuck, I think you must be related to Samwise and I suggest you are the daughter of Frodo Gardner and sister to Holfast."

The hobbits broke into enthusiastic applause, but Legolas was not finished yet.

"Which means that Éowyn and Meridydd are not only the great grandchildren of Meriadoc Brandybuck but also of Samwise Gamgee!"

This last statement brought forth not only applause but cheers and slaps on the thigh as the group congratulated the elf on his amazing perception and grasp of their family tree.

****

TBC

********

A/N:   
This chapter is the culmination of a hard day's weekend. We have managed 2 chapters of Recaptured II (the repost of the deleted original) and a new chapter of Recaptured Continued (chapter 101) as well as finally updating this little baby. Personally I blame Marigold.  
Heddwch!   
Llinos

Scifinut-Aniron: Wow! This is an aweseome story so far  
Marigold: Thanks! 

Baylor: I've often wondered what the descendants of the Four Travellers thought of them and their tales  
Marigold: So did we, lol …I hope everyone out there is reading Baylor's 'Care And Feeding of Hobbits'. It's excellent!

Rayfyre: I LOVE IT!! I really can't wait for the next chapter  
Marigold: Sorry it's taken us so long, but we'll try to update faster….  
Llinos: So many stories to write, so little time and then the blessed DVD comes out! 

Sorrowful Eagle: Gracious, I cannot wait to read more of this! It is absolutely amazing  
Marigold: Wow! Thanks!   
Llinos: Sorry to be such a lollard!

Kookaburra: I love the concept of this, only two of the finest minds in LotR fanfiction could have come up with it  
Marigold: (Blushing…honest, we are!) We just wanted to know what happened so we wrote it to find out for ourselves!   
Llinos: Flattery will get you anything – maybe even some more Moria's Revenge.

Shirebound: We will get to see the family visiting Rath Dínen -- Merry and Pippin -- won't we? I'd love to read about that, sad though it would be.  
Marigold: Sniff…I know…Llinos is reading Avalanche as I type these notes btw -it's a very well written story by Shirebound, and everyone should go and read it!


	4. The Fellowship of the Conkers

Hobbits Abroad   
Chapter 4  
**The Fellowship of the Conkers**  
Author: **Llinos**  
Beta, Additional Material and Plot Consultant: **Marigold**

Author's Note: If you have never heard of or played Conkers – you may need to read this first – if you have you can cut straight to the story.

**_Conkers are the hard nut like fruit of the horse chestnut. In America, so Marigold tells me, they would be similar to the buckeye. Conkers, the pastime, is a game of skill and sublimated violence for two players. Each player is equipped with a conker, through which a hole has been drilled to allow a piece of string to be threaded. The string is knotted to prevent the conker coming off, and the game may commence._**

**_Whoever goes first may be decided by coin toss or priority. For example, the owner of a 'sixer' (ie, the victor in six previous games) will have priority over the owner of a mere 'two-er'._**

**_The receiver holds up the hand, dangling the conker on the end of its string.. The other player then attempts to hit the dangling conker as hard as he can with his own conker by swinging it overarm. (Marigold, when I introduced her to the game, claimed this was quite frightening:-) _**

**_If he hits, he gets another go. If he misses, play switches and the receiver gets a crack at his opponent. This continues until one or other of the conkers is so damaged that it falls off the string. The winner can then add the loser's conker value to the victory count of their conker, turning the above mentioned sixer into an eighter._**

**_There are many arcane rules of conkers to do with glancing blows, hits on the string, specific techniques and so on, but they are very variable, and so are beyond the scope of this entry._**

**_There are those who mutter darkly about methods of treatment for conkers which are guaranteed to turn even the weediest, most brittle loser into an all-challengers champion twelver. Such methods usually involve things as a week soaking in vinegar or several hours of slow steady baking in a low oven. This Researcher can offer no authoritative advice on this subject other than to encourage players to experiment – but not get caught._**

More info: http://web.ukonline.co.uk/conker/archive/conkers.htm

Pictures here: http://www.compulink.co.uk/~l-hodges/wadard/conkerpics.htm

Chapter 4

The Fellowship of the Conkers

Legolas walked with the eleven hobbits through the streets of Minas Tirith and closer to the centre until at last they came to the great library. "Here is the place that Gandalf came when first he suspected the truth of the Ring," the elf explained. "Within this place there is a copy of The Red Book which chronicles the Quest and how your forebears played their part in the destruction of the Ring."

"We know this book well." Théodoc said with a smile, "My grandfather worked on part of it also and read it to us many times."

"What we don't know is some of the other things they did." Boromir told the elf. "I can remember our grandfathers talking about things, usually in their cups, and laughing a great deal, but they never told us what was so funny."

"Oh your grandfathers were always making a joke about something – especially in the early days of the Quest." Legolas led the way past the library. "Although sometimes not everybody else shared their humour."

"Oh would you tell us, please." Éowyn loved to hear stories about the Quest, especially the part about her namesake and her Great Grandsire slaying the Witch-King.

"I have to meet my friend, Gimli," Legolas explained, "but he will be in the tavern, 'The Blue Warg'. Perhaps you would all care to join us there and you may hear some stories in comfort and from both our points of view."

****

Pansy Brandybuck was not accustomed to frequenting ale houses, but the charming elf reassured her that in Minas Tirith it was more of an hotel which also supplied refreshments. So soon the entire contingent had been introduced to Gimli son of Gloin, who was half way through a pint of ale, but stood and shook hands with all the men and kissed the hands of the women.

Then the company were seated with very large mugs of ale – Faramir and Meridydd looked very pleased with themselves – and tea or mead for the lasses.

"So tell us a story about the Quest." Poppy urged impatiently. "A funny one!"

"No an exciting one!" Faramir put in. "An adventure – one that isn't in the book!"

"I'd be more interested to learn something of how our grandfathers got along in the outside world." Holfast quaffed his ale with relish, it was almost as good as Shire ale. "It must have been very strange for them visiting foreign parts for the first time."

"Aye Master Gardner." Gimli agreed, "But your grandfather was very adaptable and accommodating." The dwarf chuckled into his beard. "Like the time he helped us all learn how to play conkers."

"Conkers, I had hoped never to hear that game mentioned again." Legolas said with feeling.

"They taught you to play conkers?" Meridydd's eyes grew wide with surprise. "I thought only lads played that."

"Indeed." Legolas agreed. "But sometimes we all got a little restless."

****

"Sam please! You don't need all that string." Pippin pleaded, "Let me have some."

"I might need it some time," Samwise was being obdurate, "You only want it to play with, you should have brought your own with you for that Master Took."

"Well I didn't know we'd find this many and I've got an amazing one here – look Sam." Pippin proudly held out a large brown shiny horse chestnut, "I'll wager that's a fifteener at least!"

"Not so sure about that," Sam rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It's a little on the big side, they don't always go so well you know."

"Well there're lots of smaller ones too, Sam." Pippin pointed over to where Merry was foraging about under the large tree. "Merry's still fussing over finding the right one. Bet you can't find one to beat this though!"

"They must be a little old, this time of year." Frodo took the potential champion from Pippin to examine it. "It's a bit dried out Pip."

"Makes it better." Pippin declared. "I know Sam used to bake his to dry 'em out a bit – that's why he was always the champion."

"I did not!" Samwise spluttered indignantly. "That'd be cheating and I'm no cheat Mister Peregrin Took I'll have you know."

"Well why did you always win then?" Pippin challenged, his hands on his hips and a grin on his face. "Did you soak them in vinegar?"

"Skill, pure skill, Pippin," supplied Frodo. "Sam has a very accurate aim and a good eye when it comes to conkers you know."

"Thank you Mr Frodo," Sam looked gratefully at his sponsor, "but it's really just down to practice you know, that and having an eye for the right nut."

"Well why don't you show us now?" Pippin caught Sam and Frodo each by a hand and pulled them towards the tree. Sam suddenly realised that, as usual Pippin had stealthily got his way and that he would now have to relinquish some of his precious string.

****

"That's a sixer now!" Sam proclaimed triumphantly as his conker split Merry's cleanly across the centre.

"Surely you've only broken four with that one Sam?" Boromir was starting to take an interest in the game in spite of feigning indifference to start with. "How can yours be a sixer?"

"Because," explained Sam patiently, "Merry's conker was a twoer, then mine beat his so I get his twoer as well as the fourer I already had."

"I'm sorry?" Boromir shook his head in confusion and looked over at Aragorn who shrugged his ignorance of the situation. "How does that work?"

"Never mind about that Boromir," Pippin was sorting through the large pile of conkers he had collected, looking for one to replace Merry's recently defeated player. "I wager you couldn't make a hit, let alone score even a oner."

"Uh!" Boromir gasped in indignation. "Come, let me have one of these things. Samwise have you some more string? We'll see what I can hit."

Sam begrudgingly cut yet another length of string from his supply. He had already used four pieces, one each for Merry, Frodo, Pippin and himself, but at least he was winning, as usual. Sam was undefeated conker champion of Hobbiton and at the Harvest Feast always drew a small crowd.

He waited while Boromir carefully selected his conker, watching with approval as the man weighed them in his hand, squeezed them for density and finally chose a promising looking specimen. Sam drilled a hole through the centre for him using a fine spike borrowed from Gandalf that the wizard kept for cleaning his pipe. He threaded the string, tied the knot in the end and beckoned to the Gondorian.

"See Mr Boromir, Sir," Sam wrapped the string around his finger and lifted the conker up with his other hand. "You have to hold it so and then line it up like…" Sam closed one eye as he took the measure of the conker Frodo was holding.

"Yes, yes, I see." Boromir took the string, impatient to start. He had to bend down to level his conker to Frodo's, even though the hobbit held his up as high as he could. Boromir wrapped the string around his finger and pulled the conker back. The other members of the Fellowship all watched now with bated breath.

Boromir's conker whipped through the air faster than a speeding arrow and completely missed Frodo's conker but hit Boromir squarely and painfully in the knee.

Pippin and Merry both erupted with simultaneous laughter, Samwise winced in sympathy and concern that he might get the blame and Frodo put his hand to his mouth to suppress a giggle. Gimli snorted, "Well a pretty poor show you made of that I must say. Just as well we're not relying on you to… to…"

"To what?" Boromir asked rubbing his knee and realising that the dwarf had run out of road with his last comment. "I'd like to see you do it – it's a lot harder than it looks!"

"Surely not." Legolas came over to Pippin's conker pile. The elven archer knew his accuracy with a bow would make this a simple challenge. "Please Pippin, may I?"

"Of course," Pippin nodded eagerly, happy to have more participants for his sport.

The elf carefully selected a sturdy looking horse chestnut still in its casing. He broke it free, drilled a perfectly centred hole with his knife and threaded it with a spare bow string. "Who shall be my first opponent?"

"Well by rights it should be Mr Boromir," Sam adjudicated, "Since he missed last, he gets to take next hit."

"Very well, prepare to have your conker struck, Sir." Legolas gave Boromir a mock bow and the Gondorian sniffed slightly before wrapping his string around his hand and holding the conker out to be hit. 

The elf was good and the elf was fast, Sam could not help but notice that he would have some stiff competition. He also noted that Legolas's conker would indeed have struck home had not Boromir moved his at the last moment. Unfortunately for the Gondorian his joke backfired somewhat as Legolas, instead of striking downwards struck across and his conker found its mark, not with Boromir's conker but with its owner.

Once more the man yelped with pain as the elf's conker hit him viciously in the groin.

Merry and Pippin were now giving their impression of topsy-turvy beetles and rolling on the ground in paroxysms of mirth, too helpless to even stand. Sam looked at Frodo and scratched his head in bafflement at the man's lack of skill, while Frodo was torn between sympathising with Boromir and joining his cousins on the ground.

Aragorn sighed and went to help Boromir to straighten himself, "Are you much injured?" he asked as solicitously as he could, whilst keeping a straight face. "I think Boromir you might want to concede defeat at this sport."

"It is a mere children's game!" Boromir snorted, "Hardly a sport of kings."

"Well y-you…huhhhh chuuuuss…  can't do it!" Pippin finally managed to stutter out, between his breathless laughter. Merry was crying now and unable to utter a coherent word.

"I don't think perhaps it is a game for gentlemen," Samwise tried diplomatically. "Maybe it's just something we hobbits can do."

"Let me try." Aragorn took Boromir's conker and hefted the object in his hand to test the weight of the missile. "Frodo, may I?"

Frodo obligingly held out his conker for Aragorn to aim at and the ranger sized up the distance and trajectory of his own with great care. Finally ready to split his opponent's target asunder he fired.

The conker must have been a little over ripe Sam thought later or perhaps he should have tied a thicker knot. Aragorn's conker made a whistling sound, so fast did it travel through the air. The forward force of the nut, and possibly the speed, both conspired to fling the missile free of its string and fly through the air like a stone shot from a sling. It was not by design that Boromir happened to be in the way but at least the man prevented the hard nut hitting Gandalf as it struck the Gondorian smartly in the rear.

"Yewch!" Boromir yelped. "Did you do that on purpose?"

"No truly, I'm sorry," Aragorn flinched in horror at what he had done. "Please Boromir, believe me, I would not have."

"Yes, yes," Merry squealed with mirth, "He aimed it at you!"

"It's true!" Pippin gasped, trying to catch his breath, "The king has conkered you Boromir!"

"You're getting good, you've scored three direct hits now!" Frodo had given up trying to be polite and he and Merry were leaning against each other for support.

"Dog's teeth!" exclaimed Gimli, "Two grown men and you can't play a simple child's game. Let me do this and show a dwarf is able to turn his skill to any game or sport."

"Here Gimli," Legolas proffered his conker, possibly as a ruse to take no further part in this dangerous pastime. "Use this one."

"No." Sam was going to be firm about the rules. "Every player should have his own conker, that's the way it's played. Else how can we score?"

"Score!" Gimli spluttered, "You mean there is actually a way to score this nonsense?"

"But of course, Gimli, this is a major sport in The Shire, "Gandalf had been calmly observing from the safety of a rock, a sage smile upon his face as he sucked quietly on his pipe. It was good to see the hobbits teaching the others something for a change. "Sam's right, the player and his conker are a team, you cannot split them up, not until the conker is broken and then a new one must be found. No borrowing or lending – right Samwise?"

"Right Mr Gandalf." Sam disliked people playing higgledy-piggledy with his favourite sport. "Will you be the umpire, Sir?"

"Of course, Samwise," the wizard agreed. It would not be the first time Gandalf had refereed a conkers' match. "and perhaps I'll play the winner."

Sam allowed each contestant a main conker and a reserve. Pippin and Merry had to promise to behave and remain upright whilst in the playing area and the hobbits all conceded the other species could have two hits to their one on the grounds of lack of experience. Gandalf insisted on this as the hobbits had an obvious advantage based on the fact that they could actually play. 

Gimli was next up against Pippin. He squared up, muttered a dwarvish charm or curse under his breath, crossed his fingers and his eyes and fired. He missed. Twice. 

Pippin then took aim and, infuriatingly for the dwarf, almost casually swung his conker down to split Gimli's failed champion neatly in two. Boromir, standing a safe distance away, applauded Pippin's prowess.

Legolas was next into the centre, drawn by lot against Merry. Each scored several hits against the other but Legolas finally succeeded in splitting Merry's conker and drawing enthusiastic applause from the hobbits and wizard, with grudging concessions from the rest.

Next fate deemed that Aragorn was to meet Boromir. Merry and Pippin nudged each other excitedly, Sam whispered to Frodo about the possible outcome, whilst Gandalf chuckled quietly to himself at the sight of the two splendid, strong and brave warriors squaring up to each other as if they were about to fight a duel of honour but instead of fearsome broadswords or deadly foils they faced one another with conkers dangling on pieces of string.

After six misses each and multiple bruising, Gandalf declared a draw deducted two points each and penalised both Merry and Pippin for undue heckling and unwarranted mirth at the misfortune of others.

In a relatively long bout Sam finally and apologetically beat Frodo with a resounding hit, although neither of the hobbits sustained any physical injuries. Boromir then was called upon to face Sam and this time took the precaution of playing from behind his shield and wearing Gimli's helmet. He claimed later that this was the reason he lost, no one argued, after all he had suffered enough and provided a surfeit of entertainment. The hobbits decided they could allow him that much.

Aragorn finally succeeded in hitting Gimli's conker and eliciting a small tear in the outer casing. The dwarf argued it was not a clean break but Gandalf ruled Aragorn's conker a oner as the other conker was now unplayable and sent the ranger forward to the next heat, although penalizing him one point.

Aragorn was quickly dispatched by Merry in the following round, then lost his second conker almost immediately to the doughty Pippin, whose skill with conkers had been quite an eye opener to all but the hobbits, even Gandalf had not seen him play so well – but it had been some years.

Legolas was proving to be the dark horse. He had already beaten Merry once, taken Frodo's second conker and Sam's first, Boromir's second conker had been child's play and now he was facing Pippin. The hobbit did not flinch, even when the elf insisted he stand on a rock – a strategy that had not occurred to the others – to bring him to a better level for aiming. The manoeuvre actually turned out to be faulty though as Pippin appealed to the umpire that he should remain on the rock while he took his own hit. Gandalf conceded the point to Pippin also deducting a point from Legolas for a tangled string hit and awarding the bout to Pippin when he took out Legolas's conker by using the advantage of extra height and momentum to smash the elf's conker to pieces.

Wagers started to be placed as Merry faced Pippin, the odds now firmly in the younger halfling's favour. But experience won out over youth and the older cousin prevailed, taking Pippin's conker in one hit.

"That makes mine an eleven-er doesn't it Gandalf!" Merry shouted in excitement. "I could finally beat Sam." 

"How does this scoring work?" Boromir was totally confused. Aragorn and Gimli could offer little help either, but were not prepared to talk about it. Legolas said nothing.

"Pippin's first conker had three victories," Gandalf explained patiently, "So it was a three-er, but then it triumphed over Legolas's sixer and became a niner. Merry's was already a two-er, bringing it to an eleven-er." Gandalf checked some quick markings in the dust that he had made with his staff. "But Merry you lost a point for foul play in the first round and so did Pippin, which reduces the score off both your conkers at the time, which means that conker may only be a niner in spite of its victories."

"I'm still in the lead though aren't I?" Merry crowed happily.

"It's about as easy to follow as hobbit genealogy," muttered Boromir darkly.

"I wouldn't say it was that straightforward," said Frodo blandly. Boromir had no idea if he was joking or not.

The next round was Sam's novice conker versus Pippin's equally new conker. This time no wagers were made and coins stayed firmly in their owners' pockets. This was a frighteningly even match and no one, not even Frodo or Merry who knew the form, was prepared to risk hard cash on the outcome. Sam won after the fourth hit.

Speculation ran high again as Legolas met Merry once more. Legolas was on his reserve and unused conker now and Merry was wielding the famous niner. Age it seemed was against the experienced conker and, Merry claimed later, it must have been sorely weakened by its earlier exertions. It was defeated by the elf in the third round and Legolas's conker now claimed the title of tenner.

Only Sam was left with an intact conker to face the elf. The pride of The Shire rode on those sturdy shoulders and Frodo gave him a quick pep-talk as Merry massaged his striking hand and Pippin spun Sam's conker on it's string to check for balance and durability. "You can do it Sam," Frodo whispered, "we counting on you, we've seen you take out Bilbo and even Gandalf before now. He's only one elf after all."

"But Mr Frodo – an elf!" Sam was less than calm, but with careful seconding and encouragement drew himself up to meet the challenge.

Legolas smiled engagingly as Samwise stepped into the conker circle which the hobbit suspected was designed to unnerve him more. By right of the superior conker the elf had first strike, which worried Sam greatly. Legolas almost never missed and would keep hitting until his conker was smashed.

Legolas drew back and slammed his conker into Sam's with a mighty crack. The hobbit stood firm and did not flinch, holding his conker out at arm's length.

It was a hit, but Sam's conker had held, so Legolas took another strike. The crowd held it's breath. The elf's conker smashed into Sam's. A sharp crack sounded and two halves of a conker fell to the ground.

But it was not Sam's conker which broke – it was the elf's.

The crowd roared its appreciation. Legolas appealed to the umpire for a re-match. Gandalf declared Sam's conker a twelver and Samwise Gamgee the overall winner!

****

"So Grandfather Samwise beat everyone?" Holfast exclaimed, "he never told us that story – I wonder why."

"Aye well, he was a modest sort of hobbit." Gimli quaffed his drink with relish. "But he could certainly play conkers."

"But what about the final game?" Meridydd wanted to know. "Did he play Gandalf at the end?"

"I believe I recall that there were no suitable conkers left with which to play." Legolas said furrowing his brow as if trying hard to remember. "I'm not sure why, because there had seemed a great many when we started."

"You must remember Master Elf." Gimli snorted a laugh into his beer. "Boromir had been _'accidentally'_ dropping them into the campfire, he even collected up the remaining ones from under the tree. Young Peregrin was most disappointed."

"Yes now I recall." Legolas blinked a little, "I wonder why he did that."

****

TBC

Next chapter the Fellowship get into a bit of a hole. Enough of cuteness now. Our next production will be filled with angst, high adventure, blood and terror but very little sex. All right – Marigold just said no sex. I was just trying to get the sex people in – but what can you do? 

Heddwch!  
Llinos

Q&A

Shirebound: Writing a chapter such as this would have taken me much more than "a hard day's weekend"  
Llinos: It takes a big nasty stick from Marigold and the threat of no chocolate!

Kookaburra: I can't wait for the next chapter!  
Llinos: Well sorry you had to – but you know how it is. Anyway – Marigold is whispering in my ear, "Tell them how the next chapter is going to get exciting!" I'm sorry? What was that!

Jay of Lasgalen: I had no idea you'd started a new story, and a joint one at that.  
M&LL Please tell all your friends – they said as one!

Baylor: I hope we will get to see Gimli, and perhaps Arwen!  
Llinos: Well we managed Gimli – and Boromir, Aragorn, Gandalf, the four hobbits as well as Leggie – you can't still need Arwen, with her bosom and all! And they'll all be back in the next chapter too.


End file.
